


The Four of Us

by relaxovision



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Apocalypse, F/F, Femslash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relaxovision/pseuds/relaxovision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When forced to leave their homes, Santana, Brittany, Quinn, and Rachel take their last road trip together through a post apocalyptic world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You make your face a mask  
> A mask that hides your face  
> A face that hides your pain  
> A pain that eats your heart  
> A heart nobody knows
> 
> ~ Bang Bang You're Dead
> 
>  
> 
> This is the story of how I died. Listen. Listen, because you may be the only ones who still can.

_“Don’t leave me.” she begged. “Please! Don’t leave me behind!”_

It was the last thing I ever heard her speak.

.

It had always been the four of us: Rachel, Quinn, Britt and me. We were a team and wherever our path would lead us, it was a matter of course that we’d go the way together.

Our road lay free ahead of us. We were best friends through thick and thin.

They say time heals all wounds, but I’m not sure I want these injuries to heal. I want to keep them as a reminder of better times. They’re the only thing that connects me to what life was like once - back then when it was just the four of us, on the road, being free.

.

Quinn was a born leader.

She was the spitting image of an angel: Blonde locks, which seemed to always fall perfectly, hazel eyes that could stake you or warm your soul and a smile that made you want to cry tears of joy.

She won her first gymnastics competition at the tender age of eleven. It was the beginning of a winning streak that only ended when the great silence began. She was classy and mature, unlike me. Where I asked for trouble she found a way to safe my ass. Most of the time she tricked me into acting like an adult like her, though. She was the type of girl who can convince you of anything if you just give her the chance to talk for long enough. At some point her words always got through to me.

She was my opposite, my nemesis and my best friend. She got me and she made me mad. I loved her.

And she loved Rachel: Rachel, the girl who only quit talking briefly so she could listen to Quinn; Rachel, the short girl with the big brown eyes, an even bigger heart and the loudest voice I’ve ever heard; Rachel, the girl who kept us together on the road when times became tough. She was brave when fear froze us, and she had comfort in her for us when we started fighting and were going insane; Rachel, who died first and whom I’ll always be indebted to.

It had always been the four of us. “Santana” Britt would say “We four have been made to be together, don’t you think?” Yes, Britt, that’s true. I see that now.

I don’t know all the ‘hows’ and ‘whens’ and ‘whys’. It was a morning like every other. The sun rose into the sky, birds were singing, grass was growing and Britt and I were eating our cereals for breakfast. Nothing seemed peculiar until I switched on the radio and couldn’t get a signal. “Probably nothing.” Britt said. Oh, how I wish she had been right.

Rachel called and I didn’t want to pick up the phone. I never liked talking to her. Now I miss her voice and her cocky attitude. I miss how she would boss me around. Now I know she only meant well. I think a part of me always knew.

I’d give a lot to be able to tell her, before she started to cough. I want to go back in time and tell her that I appreciate her friendship - that I love her, too. I want to tell her all that in a time where it doesn’t seem like a pathetic promise to someone who’s dying. I want it to sound honest - like I mean every word. I want her to know how much she means to me. I want us to have our lives ahead of us, together. Just the four of us with the road lying free before us.

Britt dragged me by the hand that morning and told me we had to leave. I didn’t understand why she forced me into the car without giving me the chance to even lock the house. “That’s not necessary anymore, San.” she said and the way her eyes went dark I didn’t dare to argue. She had already packed a bag and put it in the trunk. Britt had always been the smart one, even though most people doubted that. But most people’s opinions never counted and they surely don’t matter now.

As we drove by Quinn’s house I only knew _something_ had happened, but my guts told me not to ask. Maybe I was afraid that once the words were spoken reality would hit me and I’d have to face the truth. And the truth was that nothing would ever be the same again.

Of course there had been warnings. The signs had been too obvious for quite a while, but one of the greatest abilities of mankind has always been to ignore crucial hints. Maybe we all knew it was bound to happen one day and forcing ourselves into oblivion was an attempt to enjoy our last days. Maybe we hoped that looking into another direction long enough would eventually make all problems vanish – that it would alter reality.

When the day came everyone acted surprised when in reality none of us were.

Quinn’s face was red and her eyes were swollen when she threw her backpack onto the backseat. Britt pressed her lips together and nodded at her reflection in the rear view mirror before stepping on the gas again to pick up Rachel.

It was only then that I saw the first caravan of military trucks and police cars. I remember how the noise of sirens startled me. I remember how surreal the sight seemed. I remember how my heart sank when I saw them picking up our neighbors, friends as well as strangers, pulling at their limbs, pushing them into the vehicles. We all held our breaths and prayed we’d be granted free passage.

And I remember how I bit into my hand to suppress my shriek when I saw Mrs. Daniels’ son Kevin fight himself lose from a soldier and take a run. His mom’s cries still ring loudly in my ears and the picture of the coughing little boy, falling to his knees before being shot in the head, is something to fill years of nightmares. I grabbed Britt’s arm and sobbed quietly into the palm of my hand. I knew that boy. We all did.

Through the turmoil and confusion as other people started to scream and someone lit a house on fire, through the noise of a nearby police car exploding we somehow managed to drive past unnoticed.

“There’s no ambulance. They’re all sick and there’s no ambulance.”

I understood then that we could never go back home. From now on it would be just the four of us with the road ahead.

We drove a couple of days without an aim, just staying away from cities and other people. Every now and then we encountered a parking car and accelerated whenever someone waved for us to stop. We stole food from empty drugstores and gas from deserted gas stations and abandoned cars. We slept together in the car with the doors locked and a knife or a machete within reach. The road was our home now and we were our only family.

Britt tried to reach her sister, but never got an answer before the battery of her phone went dead. Quinn and Rachel had objected saying it was too dangerous and that we could be spotted through the signal. We were never spotted, though, and at some point I started to doubt anyone was even looking for us. Somewhere along the way we quit existing.

From the moment we left home none of us ever shed a tear. Even though we didn’t have anyone else we still had each other. And we’d be strong together. Mourning would have held us back – we couldn’t afford taking a break. We didn’t even have the time to realize what was happening to us.

After a while there was no one waving for us to stop anymore. I turned my head and looked away each time we drove by another body lying to the side of the road. Too gruesome was the image – too real. I was still just a girl and even though I had a reputation of picking fights, my mind wasn’t as corrupt as it would become soon. I was innocent. We all were.

Animals apparently were immune to the virus. The birds kept singing every morning as if nothing had happened and each morning I woke up wishing they were right. I envied every cow on every field we passed by.

We kept each other alive with stories, carefully avoiding digging up memories that would trigger any hint of nostalgia or sadness. Our lives had started with that one morning when Britt dragged me by the arm and pushed me into the car. It was that moment when all our stories began. Everything else was just a fantasy, a fairy tale made up by someone happier than ourselves.

I could see the memories of music and glee in Rachel’s eyes and I could see the remnants of ballet in Britt’s. But even though Quinn’s eyes told full sagas of books that would never be written I never made the mistake of asking her about what I’d be missing out on. It was a silent agreement among the four of us. The road was the only story that mattered from now on - only the road and the four of us.

.

Rachel was strictly opposed to the idea of hunting and to be honest, I didn’t exactly fancy the thought, either. But with our food supplies tight we didn’t have much of a choice. What was I supposed to do?

The first time was a true mess and the meat I gathered was barely enough to feed one of us, yet we divided it into four equal parts like the family we were.

Killing a living creature is a lot harder than you’d think. The rabbit I caught was hanging by its foot, helplessly flailing and shrieking in despair. I’ve never heard anything like that before.

I apologized. And I almost cried even before I had fully convinced myself of that it had to die to keep us alive. It was quite ironic, actually. I had never cared much for people, no one but us; yet there I was being sorry for a stupid rabbit, just because at that very moment, when it glanced at me through perfectly black eyes, it seemed like the most magnificent creature I had ever seen in my entire life. It’s funny how life and death are really connected to one another, how they almost intermingle.

When I grabbed it the rabbit scratched me. I panicked before I remembered that animals aren’t carriers and I could disinfect the wound with vodka later. It took an eternity to figure out how to hold the fighting little beast so I could tie up all four legs at once. I’ve never been particularly strong and the rabbit almost kicked itself loose again a couple of times. I trembled when I held its hind legs. My stomach was tight, grumbling from hunger and heavy with guilt. My eyes burned and tears pressured against my eyeballs.

Finally, I covered the rabbit’s blaming eyes with one hand and hesitated for another eternity. I felt my heart pound in my chest as if it was me who was about to be slashed. The first strike missed. I don’t even know how that was possible. Maybe I had turned my head and looked away to avoid the terror. “Just make it quick.” I reasoned with myself.

Thinking about what I had once heard in a play Rachel had forced me to see I went through the steps that are supposed to enable you to do what’s necessary:

I turned my face into a cold mask that I could hide behind. I held my breath. I cut the rabbit’s throat.

I had hoped it would be dead immediately, but I must have made a mistake and despite the floods of blood that kept pulsing out in an even sequence the rabbit didn’t stop dithering beneath my hands. I wanted to run. I wanted to undo what I did. I wanted to go home.

It was the thought of the poor creature suffering that gave me the strength to end its life eventually. As it finally stopped fighting I removed my trembling hand from its face and for the first time ever I closed my eyes and I prayed to God.

All those time kneeling beside my bed, whispering lines from a book I had never even read, I wasn’t talking to God; I wasn’t talking to a higher power. I was a child obeying her parents. That couldn’t compare to the desperate plea I sent up into heaven that day when I was kneeling next to that rabbit, asking God to take care of its soul.

Over time it became a little easier – killing. But my hunting trips were another topic we quietly agreed on being a taboo. As long as we were alive death wasn’t something we’d talk about.

There was only one occasion in which someone acknowledged what I was doing for the group and of course it was Brittany. One night she snuggled up to me, even closer than usual, if that’s possible. She kissed my cheek and then my lips and she stroked my head and whispered: “Thank you.”  And it was enough. We both knew what she was thanking me for. We both knew none of the others would have had the guts to do it.

It was much later that I truly wished to be a wuss like the others:

_“Please don’t leave me behind.”_

But of course it had to be me who dragged her by the arm and forced her out of the car and pushed her away and abandoned her. I was the only one who’d have the guts to do it, even though it was for our own safety. If I had been a weak coward at least we would have died together.

It would have been the four of us forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate people have been known to render desperate deeds.

The inevitable happened when we ran out of options in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t have any water left. We were running out of gas and our nerves were on edge, even more than usually. We argued back and forth what to do when Quinn started to yell at Rachel. Quinn never yelled and she definitely never yelled at her girlfriend. When Rachel’s jaw tightened and she fell completely silent all of us were certain we had reached the bottom. We were now desperate enough to head for the next village.

“Let’s not fight.” Rachel finally said, and she sounded ridiculously calm. “We have to stick together.” I took Britt’s hand and nodded. Quinn and Rachel seemed like polar opposites but they really had a lot more in common than anyone could have guessed. They were the adult ones; the teammates; the wise. I still spend a lot of time thinking about the lessons they could have taught me. In quiet moments sentences they spoke once will make a spot in my mind. If I could just have them back; I swear I’d be a better person. I’d be a better friend.

If you’re alive to read this you know this isn’t a story about the undead. It wasn’t that kind of disease that carried off everyone we’d ever known. Our fate was simple: People started to cough as if they had caught a harmless cold. After a few days they’d spit blood and their skin would gradually turn grey. Some of them lived on for weeks, others died after only a couple of hours. It was random. It was very unspectacular, quiet, not the kind of apocalypse you get to see in movies. One by one, cough by cough, humankind quit existing, just like that.

For a while we followed the news over the only radio channel that seemed to still be on air. But when the host sneezed into the mic Britt turned the radio off without saying a word and we never switched it back on. I think his name was James or maybe Patrick. I keep forgetting.

It took us longer to start driving again than it took us to get somewhere. The place we reached seemed completely deserted. There was a shit load of garbage scattered all over the narrow roads and with each time the car jumped a little my stomach tightened from the possibility that we could have hit another body. Britt opened the windows just to shut them again immediately. The odor creeping through the little opening was unbearable. It smelled like death. This village was about to break all of our taboos.

Not one of the houses seemed undamaged. Without a doubt scavengers had come before us and taken everything that wasn’t nailed to the floor. Most windows were broken and quite a few buildings were burned to the ground. It was an addition to the collection of stories we’d never tell. I had read about scenarios like this in books: people fighting each other instead of sticking together in a desperate attempt to be the last person standing when everyone else was dying; people slaughtering their friends and stealing from each other to feed themselves; maybe even cannibalism. Starvation and the complete lack of rules or anyone to enforce them turned human beings into madmen. Women and children were usually the ones to die first. Not in my wildest dreams had I imagined any of this would actually happen. Somehow I had still expected people to be better – human.

Rachel snuggled up to Quinn, who wrapped her arms around the shorter girl. I reached out and stroked Britt’s hair and smiled at her the best I could. I loved all three of them too much to let those horrible things happen to us. We would never turn into such monsters. We would never break apart and lose our humanity. I would have rather killed myself than to risk losing my family. I would have done everything to keep all of us alive.

One thing was clear, though: None of the abandoned homes would have running water. Quinn took Rachel’s hand and squeezed it so hard Rachel had to bite her lip in order not to cry out in pain. Brittany’s face remained calm. I’m sure she was dissociating again, dreaming herself away to a better place; basically anywhere but there. It was an ability I had always envied a little.

“There’s a gas station.”

Rachel’s finger pointed to a sign not far ahead of us. Not that her declaration had been necessary, but in that moment her voice was a welcome distraction from the silence suffocating us. The sun was about to set and we needed to find a place to sleep soon. When Britt placed a soft kiss on my shoulder I sighed and missed our bed back home more than ever.

As I pulled over into the parking lot something felt off, but it wasn’t until Rachel spoke again that I understood what it was:

“Guys, it’s lit.”

We had grown so used to being around no one that the prospect of meeting someone was nothing more than a vague idea. Other people only existed in the fairy tales we never told each other. Not once did we mention anyone we’d drive past. Everyone along the road was dead, if not in reality then at least in our heads. They were carriers and would die sooner or later. Humans imposed a threat to our vows and our health. Just like we had stopped existing when we left home all these weeks ago, human life had quit existing for us. It had always been the four of us. That’s the way it was supposed to be: just us and the road.

We sat there still for what seemed to be hours and I’m confident we were all thinking the same thing.

“I’ll go.”

It was the sentence that sealed Rachel’s fate.

I’ll never forget the expression on Quinn’s face when Rachel died. Her eyes died together with her girlfriend and her face never quite regained its color; as if her blood had forever been frozen now that Rachel wasn’t there to give her heart a reason to beat. We all died with Rachel then. It should have been the four of us, together forever.

“I’ll go.”

I wanted to shake my head and say no. Sometimes I still wake up, objecting to Rachel’s suggestion. In my dreams she stays with us. I lock the doors and drive on and we find water and gas somewhere else. At night we’re back together on the road as a family. We’re happy.

Instead I just sat there like a statue made of stone and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even look up and I didn’t listen to the whispered argument on the backseat. We needed water. And one of us had to be bold enough to go get it. One of us had to check. Or all of us. We should have stayed together. I should have gone with Rachel.  

All these times out there hunting I always killed, but I never put my own life at risk. I felt brave for ending countless lives when in reality I was a coward. I’m ashamed to admit that a part of me even was glad that it hadn’t been Brittany who offered to go.

I swallowed hard when I heard the back door being slammed shut. I grabbed the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white and I could feel Quinn’s stare drilling holes into my neck. I’ll never know if she blamed me for what happened. If she did, she never let on. Even in the cruelest of times, even on the day the unthinkable happened, even when she started to cry and we realized it was over for us, even then she never burdened me with shame. She never told me her anger or resentment. We all knew this wasn’t the time to fight each other. We all knew everyone else was doing their best to keep the family alive. It was like Rachel said: We needed to stick together.

Somewhere deeply buried in the back of my head I think that Quinn’s love for me never wavered. It’s another burden I’ll have to live with, because if it had been the other way around, if it had been Britt and not Rachel, I’m not sure what I would have done. But Quinn and Rachel they were too kind to let their fear out on anyone but themselves. They were years ahead of me and they will probably always be, even though they now will never have the chance to grow old together. They will never marry and they will never come home to each other again. They will never be pulled down into hugs and kisses by their children. Never again will they eat ice-cream or hear the spine of a new book crack as they first open it. They will never again feel their palm prickle at that very moment when you open a bottle of fresh mineral water and thousands of little bubbles shoot to the surface, making the glass vibrate ever so slightly. Rachel will never star on Broadway and Quinn will never become a journalist. They will never have anything to look forward to.

But then, neither will I.

When Rachel returned she wasn’t alone. She was followed by a tall slim guy, approximately our age. He had a mohawk and a shotgun. The latter was pressed firmly into Rachel’s back. I was still clutching the wheel when he knocked on the front panel.

“Open up.”

Britt and I exchanged looks, but Quinn opened her door without missing a beat.

He seemed tough, but was a real weakling. He hid behind his weapon, because he knew he couldn’t take the four of us at once. There was a constant tremble in his voice and I didn’t quite understand why until I saw the blonde girl with the bloody dust mask peeking through the door from inside the store. She must have been three or maybe four years old. Poor girl. She was way too young to understand any of this. She was doomed to die before she was given the chance to start a collection of memories and stories. She was too little to mourn all her chances, everything she’d never do and see and experience.

“Beth, go back inside.” the guy yelled.

Then turning to us: “I’m Noah.”

Noah was the first person I’d have to kill, but unfortunately he wouldn’t be the last.

“Look.” he said, “All I want is the car to get out of here with my daughter. I won’t hurt any of you if you just give me the car. There’s food and water inside. You can have it all.”

Brittany started to reason with him and with Quinn and Rachel talking simultaneously no one had noticed Beth approaching until she was standing right in front me, looking up with big eyes. Times were tough and sad and bitter and she was sick and yet, there she stood in front of me, smiling. She was just a kid greeting strangers, and she wasn’t afraid of anything; she had never experienced tragedy. Noah had obviously done a good job in keeping her safe. It broke my heart.

 I hadn’t started arguing with the others. The old Santana would have gone mad. She would have yelled and cried and done something stupid to gamble away all her chances. But the new Santana was calm and planned ahead. Within just a few weeks I had turned into a silent hunter, observing instead of rushing forward.

Beth reached her little fingers into my direction and I did the only thing I could think of that moment: I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards me, pressing the knife I was carrying to her throat. I wasn’t sure if I was able to hurt a person, let alone a helpless child, but desperate people have been known to render desperate deeds. I had to try and save my family. So I made my face a cold mask once again and bluffed. I heard Quinn gasp and felt Brittany’s eyes on me as I stood there, doing something I knew I’d hate myself for later.

Noah dropped his gun immediately and kicked it into my direction, lifting both his hands into the air. His eyes were pleading with me.

I picked up the weapon and let the crying girl go. Without noticing I had cut her neck, just slightly, just enough to let a tiny bit of blood stain the blade of my knife. I threw it as far as I could, knowing it was now infected.

With a coughing and crying and trembling Beth in his arms Noah shot me a glance I had never seen before on anyone: It was more than just anger, more than desperation. Noah was furious. At this moment when our eyes met we both knew we were equal, but never even. I knew he’d come to take revenge. I didn’t blame him then and I don’t blame him now. If anything I wish I’d get the chance to apologize for what I did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly the tragedy of our situation was one body more real for all of us.

_Death is a virus. Embedded into our system it sleeps, waiting to be triggered. And when it wakes it spreads and spreads and harvests life and it doesn’t rest until it has digested everything on its way to the apocalypse. Only the lucky have their bodies die before their minds._

.

I knew we wouldn’t be able to leave now that it was becoming dark and we had yet to refill our supplies. Ultimately we decided to sleep in the car once again and take turns to stand guard.

Of course Quinn insisted on taking the first shift. It was, after all, Rachel she was protecting. She picked up the gun and I didn’t dare wonder if she’d be capable of hurting Noah in case he tried anything. I never thought of her as weak, but she wasn’t a hunter like me. She had never hurt anyone. She had never killed. She didn’t know the amount of blood even a little creature can shoot into your direction if you slip. She didn’t know what it was like to rob a life. She didn’t know about the rabbit. Quinn didn’t know that life is the only thing that takes from you when you steal it: Like a cruel defense mechanism it pulls at you and takes a part of your soul with you. It lets you digest death and forces you to taste a portion of what you’ve just given. It’s like a part of you is replaced forever by a spot of darkness; it’s an inherent part of your body, of your identity. It’s there, always. It speaks and it vibrates and it alters your molecules. 

Maybe for Rachel she would have been able to do that. Yet it was probably for the best that she didn’t know all these things I had learned the hard way. In her head it could be just a finger on the trigger. And thankfully, the only thing Noah knew about Quinn was that she had his shotgun. It made me feel safe enough to fall asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Quinn was leaning with her back against my door and Rachel was outstretched on the backseat, snoring. She had a tendency to snore and sometimes it would drive me nuts. Without earplugs or a pillow to muffle the noise I’d poke Quinn awake and tell her to make her shut up “or else”. Whenever I wake now I secretly wish it was because of her snoring and I want to poke Quinn awake just to have her frown at me.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to blink away the remnants of my latest nightmare: Military trucks and bodies and sirens. Mom. And gunshots. Waking up has become an even stranger process than it used to be.

I looked up and stretched my neck and startled; because what I saw through the front window shook me deeply: Noah wasn’t sleeping. He was staring at us from inside the station, clutching the girl in his arms. He was a lion waiting for his prey to forget about the threat. He wouldn’t rest until the wound I had inflicted would be punished. I had rendered all his efforts to raise his daughter sheltered useless when I pressed that knife to her throat and taught her fear. I had taken the innocence of a dying little girl and that was unforgivable.

No one was mourning the loss of _my_ innocence and I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous then. Who was there to protect me from the threats of this dark new world? Who’d avenge the loss of everything I cherished? I had to be brave and hunt. I had to hide behind a mask and be strong. When I saw Noah staring back at me that night I wanted nothing more than to allow myself to be weak. I longed for a moment in which I could break apart like a child who had fallen off her bike and needed someone to kiss the wound better. Of course it was an immature wish and even though Britt had so often tried to kiss my pain away we both knew it was futile. The world would never change back to what it used to be - back to a time I now hardly remember anymore.

Sometimes I close my eyes now and I dig deep into my memories, trying to uncover every happy image there’s left. But the faces of people I once knew have turned blurry and I cannot even recall every detail about my own parents. They’re visions and their essential characteristics are engraved into my brain structure, but no matter how hard I try, I always fail to draw every line of their faces back into the picture. Their voices sound like muffled echoes and I’m sure it won’t take long until there’ll only be my own voice left, imitating their tone and forming sentences with what they might have said, once upon a time.

Lost in thought I kissed the top of Brittany’s head and pulled her close, before realizing my mistake:

When my eyes went searching the darkness again and met Noah’s, he was smiling; a sinister grin that expressed the threat I couldn’t have heard over the distance: “So she means something to you.”

He had found my weakness and it was then that I realized I had yet to give up more.

.

The rest of the night I spent guarding the others, staring Noah down in a sick contest of glares. It was frightening how happy he seemed now that he knew something about me. Not only had I stolen Beth’s innocence, I had also taken away Noah’s kindness. Santana had changed from a girl into a hunter and from a hunter into a thief.

I would soon become a reaper.

When the sun rose Noah had finally surrendered to sleep. I woke up the others. There was no way I was going to stay at this place one second longer than necessary. Quinn and Rachel hopped out of the car quickly and I’m sure they were driven by the same motivation as I was.

Brittany didn’t feel so well. The lack of proper food took its toll on all of us and that day her stomach rebelled against any kind of quick movement. It was a feeling we all knew too well and we knew it’d pass. I handed her a bottle of fresh water and sneaked a kiss before heading for the gas station, heading towards Noah with his glaring eyes and his sick daughter, who was now afraid of me.

Rachel grabbed the bags I couldn’t carry and followed suit whilst Quinn went off with a gas canister.

The door squeaked open and Noah jumped a little, hugging Beth even tighter than before. When she woke she didn’t even have enough time to rub her eyes before she began to cough violently. I admired how he never let go off her, risking his own life. The mask protected him from any sprays of blood, but it couldn’t be a hundred percent safe. Besides, most often it’s not the actual threat that frightens us to the bone. It’s the gaps we fill in our heads instead. Only our own thoughts can truly terrify us and make us do all kinds of stupid things. Like running through the darkness when we should stay calm. Like freezing in place when we should be running. Like leaving the girl you love alone in the car. He was a lot smarter than me. He knew how to protect his family.

Packing up as much food as we could gather Rachel and I didn’t speak a word. All I could think of was not to think of Beth.

When Noah lifted himself up I pointed the gun at him and started a new staring contest. “Really?” He sneered. “I’m taking my daughter to the restroom. You’re already taking our supplies and you’re going to leave us to die in this shithole. And now you’re pointing my own gun at me just because I’m taking my sick daughter to the restroom?” Really. Nodding tersely I lowered the weapon and let him go. I doubt Beth heard any of this through her coughing as she was carried away. I pray she didn’t.

Rachel had loaded her backpack with bottles of water, but when she tried to lift it she stumbled and fell. “I guess I slightly overestimated my strength.” She really was the cutest thing ever sometimes. She shyly smiled into my direction and I couldn’t help but smile back at her. Raising one eyebrow I laughed: “You’re way too small for that huge bag anyway. It’s probably heavier than you are.” She giggled and got back up to her feet. I heard Beth cough in the restroom and hurried up to pack as much food into our bags as I could gather.

It was true. We were stealing Noah’s supplies. We were going to leave him behind in the middle of nowhere. Just the day before I had promised to myself I wouldn’t let this happen to us, but at that point we had already become scavengers. None of us ever raised her voice to object to what we were doing. None of us ever expressed concern. We had turned into these cruel monsters you read about in books.

“Santana!”

I had expected a fight - a long battle face to face against Noah. Out in the woods hunting I had become quite strong and I’m sure I would’ve been able to beat him. He would’ve tried to steal my gun and I would’ve wrestled him until it pointed into his direction. Or I would’ve tackled him down and my family would have come to my rescue. The four of us would have won against him easily. Beth would’ve been standing to the side, hysterically crying and begging us not to kill her daddy; of course we would have let him live. It’s what good people do. I would’ve kicked his stomach one last time to ensure he wouldn’t get up and jump on my back as I’d get into the car with the others. I would’ve apologized to Beth. And I would still be a person.

But none of that happened. We were no heroes. We were scavengers. A big showdown with a glorious victory against the evil-doer was something I wasn’t worthy of anymore.

When I heard Quinn yell I ran to the door and what I found myself confronted with destroyed me:

Not once had I thought of the possibility Noah could have had a second weapon. How stupid I had been! He stood there, waiting for me, just out of reach; too far away for me to do anything. He must have left his daughter in the restroom and climbed out the window. Or maybe there had been a back entrance to the gas station. I had been such an idiot; such a big fool! I had failed my family. I had failed Brittany. Wishing I had been an experienced gunner instead of timid thief the only thing I could do was watch him point his gun at Britt - my life.

Then it all happened so fast.

I saw his face form a satisfied smirk as he took aim and pulled the trigger. Brittany sank to the ground and I wasn’t sure if the sound I heard was the gun being fired or my heart shattering into a million pieces. I saw my girlfriend, my perfect Brittany, my family break down as the bullet hit the wall behind her.

He had missed.

I ran. Faster than I knew I was capable of I ran until I was within reach. I ran and I made my face a mask, a mask I could hide behind and I turned my pounding heart to stone as I raised the weapon in my hand and fired.

Killing a person is a lot different than killing a rabbit. When I went hunting it was always in order to feed us, to keep us alive. When I shot Noah and he tumbled forward towards me and he looked at me with unforgiving eyes I knew I had killed again to keep us alive. But this time I was sure God wouldn’t forgive me. Noah’s soul would be taken care of whereas mine was now forever doomed.

The moment the bullet hit him he quit fighting - all anger left him. He fell, his judging eyes never breaking contact with mine. I wanted to cover his face with my palm like I had done with the rabbit, but I was frozen to the spot. Noah stared at me and never broke eye contact as he sank to his knees, beaten, breathing out the last bits of life. He wanted to make sure I’d witness how his ghost was forced out of him and he succeeded: I swear I could see life in the shape of Noah leaving his body, desperately trying to hold onto its vessel, reaching out and clinging to its last connection to this world before vanishing into thin air.

“Beth.”

He will never quit existing. 

Quinn, Rachel and Brittany all were staring at me in shock. All these times I went hunting on my own and I came back with a dead animal; not once had they seen me do the killing. I guess it was easy to pretend I was still the old Santana with the big mouth and empty threats. Just like I had turned my head and looked away so many times they had closed their eyes to the cruel truth that death had shaped me. Suddenly the tragedy of our situation was one body more real for all of us.

I looked at Brittany who stood there unmoving, and my eyes pleaded with her not to think of me differently. I lowered the gun and stepped away from the dead Noah, careful not to look at him. Rachel buried her face in Quinn’s shoulder - Quinn who then understood what I was capable of; Quinn, who would’ve done the same for her Rachel; Quinn, who’d never judge me for anything and who I’ll never forget.

“Guys, we can’t leave his daughter behind.”

I don’t even remember who voiced what everyone was thinking. Being the one who killed her dad I decided it was my duty to take care of her.

“Beth?” When I slowly pushed the door open I listened for her cough or whimper, but didn’t hear the slightest noise. “Beth? It’s ok, you can come out.” Then I remembered our first encounter. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

I found her sitting against the counter, knees hugged tightly and her head buried in her lap.

She was long gone. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If we’d drive far enough we could outrun the apocalypse.

_There are moments we want to savor. There are moments we want to forget. I’ve collected enough of both kinds._

_Sometimes we find hope in the most devastating days of our lives. And sometimes it’s a happy thought that foreshadows tragedy._

_The four of us were meant to be together._

_Enjoy the time you have._

.

With our bags filled and as much gasoline as we could fit into the trunk we rushed away from that place as fast as we could. None of us said a word for hours. Only Britt’s head on my shoulder, as she leaned against me on the backseat, reconfirmed that I was still alive. She was my anchor to reality.

“They’re all dead.”

Quinn stared out into the distance, lost in thought. A couple of moments passed before she turned her head to us, asking:

“Right?”

She was the first to break that rule. I gulped and heard Brittany’s breath hitch. None of us dared to answer. I’m not even sure whether Quinn actually wanted a response. She kept her eyes on the road and didn’t even look at Rachel. Something had snapped inside of her – it was inside of all of us.

We had spent our journey avoiding the answer to exactly that question. Now it filled the air around us, impossible to be unheard. I remember how my mind started spinning out of control. All I was able to see were bodies – bodies everywhere; death, wrapping us in apathy.

Quinn didn’t blame me - none of them did - but ultimately I knew that I had done this to us. I had killed a rabbit, I had hurt a child, I had killed a person: a girl, a hunter, a thief, a reaper. Step by step I was bringing death upon us, slowly breaking down our protective walls that separated us from the nightmare of a truth. Never before had we spoken to one of the bodies. And now they were suddenly more than that: they had turned back into people. They started to exist. We could turn our heads all we wanted, but from now on every body would have a face.

.

Two days passed until Quinn and Rachel talked to me again. I know that the silence between us was not that of judgment but that of grief and I know, now more than then, that it’s rather awkward talking to death. I’m not mad. I never was.

The supplies we’d gathered allowed me to rest. At least hunger wouldn’t be an issue for at least a week. To my great relief this also meant that I wouldn’t have to go hunting for a while. I couldn’t stop wondering if from now on every creature I killed would look like Noah. I couldn’t stop imagining his eyes staring into mine, challenging me to die with him. His image was permanently burnt into my eyelids. Sometimes he’s still there, judging me, reminding me of the moment when I lost my soul – the moment when death started to catch up to us.

“I think I want to see the ocean.” Brittany was staring out of the window, obviously daydreaming. “You think we can go see the ocean, San?” Who was I to deny her that? “Sure.” I said. “We can go anywhere we want.”

And it was true. Without a work schedule, without any obligations to bind us, we were free to go wherever the road would take us. Maybe we’d be able to escape reality somehow. If we’d drive far enough we could outrun the apocalypse. We’d live on the beach and eat fish and build sandcastles. Who was there to hold us back? Our life together could be a never-ending vacation and no one would ever disturb us. We’d be together forever, free.

We kept traveling for three more days and stopped at every spot we liked, stretching our limbs, breathing fresh air, pretending we weren’t running. If Quinn was right there was no reason for us to rush anywhere anyway. I kept wandering through patches of woodland just like I did when on a hunt, but now that I didn’t have to kill for a while I could enjoy the silence of the trees and bushes.

It was a very different silence than all the silence we encountered on the road. The brushwood was alive, lively even, and every now and then I saw one of earth’s little creatures run, crawl or fly past. Mice, rabbits, owls and foxes kept on living just like before humankind had started to go extinct – a cruel reminder how life went on without us. They kept moving while were doomed to stagnation. They’d see the future of this planet. We were lucky if we’d see another day.

They were unaware of what was happening to us; they never had to fear anything, especially now that I had been tamed. When I changed from killing animals to killing people my claws had become blunt. At least for a couple of days I wasn’t a threat to anyone or anything.

So I stood there surrounded by green and I watched and I listened and I breathed as much as I could. Bugs and ants would never know the devastating events that had brought me there. “In my life I will fight” they sang as they passed me by, oblivious to my presence. Had we become the animals of farthing wood?

One time I kicked off my shoes and just stood there between the trees with my eyes closed, feeling the dirt between my toes and the light breeze on my face. I listened to the leaves’ whisper and smiled when I felt Brittany’s hands around my waist. She nuzzled my neck and squeezed me tight. My heart skipped a beat and for the first time in a long time it wasn’t out of sheer terror. I had gone such a long time without anything that could remotely be called happiness that I almost didn’t recognize the feeling.

I tensed and she only pulled me closer. In her embrace out there in the woods it was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders and as I leaned into my girlfriend’s touch I was certain that yet again she was the only thing keeping me there. Had she let go off me I’m positive I would have vanished. My anchor; my sweet Brittany; my family; my life. 

Only when I relaxed did she slowly spin me around, never loosening her steadying grip on me. She smiled softly before leaning in for a kiss.

It was the first time since we had left home that I got to be with her like this and I remember exactly how I felt safe with her arms tightly wrapped around my back, pressing me close to her. For a few short moments the cruel world around us disappeared. Every touch was a reconfirmation that she still loved me despite the fact that I had changed – despite the fact that I had become a monster. Every time I thought she was breaking the kiss she leaned back in and pulled me even closer, pressing her palms into my back, pressing my body against hers. For these few moments with her I got to be human again. She was protecting me from whatever threats we’d have to face. She was killing the reaper in me. No matter what else would happen, she’d always be my safe haven. I’ll be forever grateful to her.

For a brief second I thought that maybe we could find our own White Deer park, our Sansibar. Maybe we could live on the shores of the world. On that day with my hands around her neck Mary’s country seemed close enough for us to reach it. So near and yet so far.

Deep down, of course, I knew even then that this was nothing more than wishful thinking. The virus was hanging above our heads like the sword of Damocles.  

A part of me wants to erase all happy moments with Brittany from my memory. I want to rewind all the hopes I built on that day so the disappointment I had to face wouldn’t hit me as hard. Another part thinks this is the only thing that keeps me going.

.

We were back to our old routine when it happened.

I had started hunting again, although not as frequently. I figured it’d be better not to use up our food supply all at once. I should’ve known better. Death kills. I should’ve had learned that lesson by then.

Britt was drawing invisible ducks on the window to her right while Quinn and Rachel were giggling about some dull joke I made. “You’re the silliest person I know sometimes.”

I ignored the fact that Quinn didn’t exactly know a lot of people anymore and just laughed along with them. It had been a good day for us so far. Our vacation from death had refilled our energy; the little breaks from our journey onwards and away lifted our spirits and eased our exhaustion. We even had enough water left for another few days. I didn’t know it’d be the last time we’d laugh together. Quinn, I promise, I’ll keep this memory, and if it’ll destroy me, I’ll keep it.

With my left hand on the wheel I looked over to my girlfriend and couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to have her here with me. Among the four of us no one was an outsider and I was happy to know that for once in her life Brittany didn’t have to feel stupid. We were a family and a family sticks together, through thick and thin. We loved each other implicitly. With all our flaws we’d always be perfect to each other.

I reached out and touched her hair, then focused back on the road ahead. Britt leaned over to kiss my cheek. The sun had been shining brightly these last couple of days and I loved how the freckles on her nose became darker and more visible in the summer. She kissed my cheek again and again and again, little pecks from loving to playful, until I started giggling. “No, stop it!” I didn’t mean it. “I’ll cause an accident.”

It was a little sneeze that silenced all of us instantly and made us freeze in place.


	5. Chapter 5

_When confronted with death we become aware of life. Too late._

_Your family_

_Your body_

_Your will_

_Your humanity_

_Which one would you give up?_

_Four vows, four break downs, four losses and four ways to die._

\---

There are very few moments in my life in which I really felt self-conscious. That was definitely one of these moments. My heart sank and my mind went blank. I heard my own pulse hammering in my ears.

Brittany pulled back from my cheek and stared on the road. Her eyes were empty.

In the rear view mirror I saw Rachel raise her hand to her mouth in shock, frantically examining if there was blood on her palm. Quinn swallowed audibly.

I swear that every single of my body hairs stood straight up right that second. None of us said a word for a good hour. We just sat there quietly while my mind was racing.

Was this my punishment for ending a person’s life? Even today I’m not sure about that.

Of course I deserved it. Rachel didn’t.

“When you were in that gas station…”

Quinn squinted. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question, and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to answer.

“Rachel?” I insisted.

A few long seconds went by until she almost whispered: “She wasn’t wearing a mask.”

She swallowed without looking up.

“I didn’t know she was sick.”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. My throat tightened and my stomach churned.

Rachel was infected.

My vision turned grey. There would never be a reason to see colors again.

“I swear I didn’t know!”

None of us had ever actually seen the disease take over someone, stage by stage. All we had were blurry images in our heads, made up through reports over the radio when we were still using it. We only knew vaguely what we had to expect. It made everything even more terrifying.

Quinn pressed herself in the opposite corner of the backseat, away from her girlfriend, and closed her eyes. Maybe she was trying to dissociate like she had witnessed Brittany do it so often. Maybe she was just thinking. Maybe in her head she was shedding the tears which would never run down her cheeks.

At that point it never occurred to me that we had to find a solution. Not once did I think there was another option than to carry on as if nothing happened, as if Rachel was ok.

We were a family. We were supposed to be together, always.

It had to be the four of us.

\---

We kept going in complete silence for another day before Rachel first started to cough. Until then I hadn’t been sure she was really sick. I think all of us tried the best we could to ignore the obvious away: that we had lost a family member.

I can only imagine what it was like for Quinn. She loved the little dork more than anything else in the world. I can only guess what it must have felt like being so close to her, but being afraid to touch her.

 It was beyond painful to see her being tugged in one corner of the backseat with her eyes closed. Quinn and Rachel had never shied away from showing their affection for each other. They loved to cuddle and they always found the cutest excuses to sneak just this one more kiss. Now they would never kiss again.

I can only imagine what that must have felt like. The thought destroyed me. Even in our darkest hours I was never afraid to touch Brittany. 

That night we didn’t sleep in the car. No one dared to mention it, but neither of us wanted to sleep so close to Rachel.

We set up a small camp fire on a field and ate the last bits of dried beef we carried with us. Brittany snuggled up to me and I lowered my face to bury my nose in her hair. It’s remarkable how her mere presence had always had this soothing effect on me. Even back in the days before my first killing, when I was still the raging girl instead of the calm hunter, all it took for me to get my feet back on the ground was her eyes being fixed on my face. Whenever she took my hand I was unable to be upset. She’d laugh all the anger away until I was smiling along with her.

Even that night, our last night together as a family, just nuzzling her head made me feel a little better. It made me feel as if I was still alive.

Sweet sweet lies.

Like the horizon promises new lands to discover. But what is there to see now, except for more death?

It was a series of little coughs that shook me from my thoughts.

Rachel had put on a dust mask. It made it that much harder to look at her.

We had always tried to avoid any hint of death or sickness and that mask was a reminder of the fact that our little bubble was doomed to burst. Our family would never be together again. It would never again be the four of us and the road. We would never be free again.

Rachel had a sad look on her face. I could tell she wasn’t sad, because she was going to die. It was guilt that was pulling her down. It was the knowledge that she was destroying us. It was the thought of leaving Quinn behind. Her face reflected the weight on her shoulders.

Her coughing never subsided again.

I kept lying with my eyes open for what seemed an eternity. And I kept thinking. With every cough from Rachel it dawned on me that we couldn’t ignore this away forever. I couldn’t just lie here with Britt in my arms forever and pretend the night would never end. The sun would come up eventually and we’d have to face another day.

Every day brings new challenges, new obstacles, but unfortunately this wasn’t one of these hills we had to climb in order to grow stronger and succeed. Life wasn’t giving us an opportunity to learn. It was creeping away from us. I could see my family rinse through my fingers like sand and no matter how desperately I tried to hold on to the grains I kept losing them rapidly. Life was rushing away from me like the color from my vision.

“You don’t need this anymore.”

Before that moment I never knew I did.

The sound of the scariest lullaby anyone had ever sung to me was covering me like a cold blanket made of stone. Only the fact that I was entirely exhausted from the drive made me finally drift off into a deep coma. I followed the grains of sand from my hands and let the quicksand pull me down—let it wash over me until all noises from Rachel, all hints of death were muffled.

Maybe I was just imagining it anyway. Maybe I would wake up and everything would be alright.

\---

It was still dark when I woke and Rachel was still coughing and the fire was still burning. I wasn’t home and we were still dying.

I could see the first hints of blood on Rachel’s mask and pulled my knees up to my chin. The sight was unbearable.

I have no idea how Rachel managed not to cry, but she never lost her temper. All through the sickness and the pain that must have come with it, she remained herself: the kind, collected, nerdy, sweet Rachel I knew and loved.

The only thing that had changed was that she quit talking. She didn’t dare talk to us. It must have had destroyed her and when I saw her lying there, coughing into her mask, trying her best to be quiet, I lost it. I couldn’t stand it any longer. The sight of her pathetic self sickened me to the bone, ate me from the inside.

Once again I made my face a mask and I got up and walked over to her. I hid my face behind a cold expression, protecting my life, and Rachel, who never managed to fall asleep, pressed her eyes shut as I approached her slowly.

Quinn and Brittany had woken up as well by now and both of them came to my aid. We gathered around the brunette bundle like a group of vultures, observing their prey, making sure it’s dead as our shadows fell onto the tiny body in our midst.

She must have been terrified.

But Rachel wasn’t dead, yet and we were still a family. Quinn kneeled down first and began to stroke Rachel’s hair. When I lay down next to her, hugging the sick girl from behind Rachel’s body tensed for a second and she swallowed audibly. If it was just going to be this one last night together, we’d be a family until we couldn’t any longer. If one night was all we’d get, we’d take it and enjoy every second.

I’m glad we did.

“I love you, Rachel.” I whispered.

I wish I had the chance to tell her again.

“I love you.” Brittany and Quinn added simultaneously.

One of my biggest regrets is that I never told her that when she was still ok—when it was the four of us in happy times; back when we still had a home.

I would enjoy being annoyed and I would enjoy being shut down by Quinn’s angry glares. If I’d get the chance I’d tell all three of them how much I love them every single day so they’d never had to doubt it.

One more day would be enough.

Or maybe not.

We spent the rest of the night declaring our love for each other. We were more than just two and two, more than just the four of us. I’m grateful for these last few hours, in which we were united.

 Soon we were all four huddled together, breathing into each other, keeping each other warm and safe. I was sure I’d never need anything else in the world to be happy. Just Rachel in my arms, my hands on Quinn’s and Britt hugging me from behind, that’s all I’d ever wish for.

But of course, the night had to end and we’d never be happy together again. 

“Santana! Quinn! Wake up! Rachel’s gone!”

My eyes shit open and I was immediately awake. I was ready to run.

Rachel had secretly left while the rest of us had been sleeping.

I’ll never forget this moment when Rachel died and Quinn sank to the ground. I covered her eyes then and looked over to Britt. She was the first one who started to cry.

I had hoped I’d never have to see one of us cry, but the fact that it was Brittany who broke our third secret vow was too much to handle. I felt wetness running down my own cheeks. Only Quinn didn’t cry. She just sank to her knees and surrendered. She gave up.

We found Rachel not far from our camping spot, leaning against a tree. She was coughing like mad. Her dust mask was completely soaked. There was no chance in hell it was still possible to breathe through that thing.

I didn’t understand what had driven her to leave us until I saw the gun in her hand.

We started to run. I’ve only run this fast twice in my life: The first time was to kill Noah, the second was to safe Rachel. I didn’t even have enough time to appreciate the irony.

She looked up and her face fell when she saw us approaching. Rachel obviously hadn’t planned on still being alive when we woke.

She was the kindest, sweetest girl I’ve ever known. She didn’t want to drag us down, didn’t want to risk our lives. She didn’t want us to watch her suffer as she slowly, gradually kept slipping away from us. She refused to be a grain of sand, slipping through my fingers.

And most of all: She didn’t want us to try and fail at catching her. Her plan was to let us enjoy this last night together before vanishing without having to say goodbye.

It was one of two last wishes that she would be denied.

Quinn reached her first. She threw herself against her girlfriend, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. I cannot count the times in which my heart had been broken by then, but in hindsight it was this second—the moment when Quinn fell into Rachel’s arms—which marked the end of me. I’ll never recover from that. 

When Britt and I reached the two Quinn and Rachel were already in the middle of a desperate argument. It was probably the first real argument between the couple, and from their faces I could tell they were both losing.

Quinn kept shaking her head while Rachel kept whispering into her ear. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, and Quinn never told me, either. It wasn’t necessary. It was between the two, and the result was about to hit me just as hard.

Rachel leaned forward to kiss Quinn goodbye before remembering that she couldn’t. Quinn, determined Quinn, pulled her girlfriend close and brought her hand up to cover her lips. Then she pressed her face against Rachel’s.

Once again I turned my head and looked away. I couldn’t bear to see the tragedy of my two best friends being denied this last kiss. My eyes only met Brittany’s, though, and it was then that our protective spell broke and we both started to cry.

Rachel finally pulled away from Quinn, who struggled to keep Rachel in her embrace. She wasn’t ready to lose her. None of us were, but Quinn held on to whatever was left of our family the tightest.

She fought with everything she had in her. She was unwilling to let go off Rachel. Her life depended on this last hug.

It was meant to last forever.

Like Noah’s ghost to his vessel, Quinn was holding on to Rachel as if it was her own body that was about to be stolen from her. She was tugging on her shoulders, hair and limbs. She was wrapping herself around her life.

When Rachel looked up to me with begging eyes my throat tightened.

No.

She couldn’t ask me to do that. Anything, I would have done anything for her that moment, except for that.

We all died then. Four lives, four losses. I gave up my name and became a monster. And I didn’t even get to choose my hell.

Panicking I searched Rachel’s face for another interpretation. Any hint would have sufficed. In the end I was right, though.

She was asking me, actively asking me to use my mask again. She knew only I could do it.

Oh, how I had wished to be a weakling then.

Brittany must have seen Rachel’s plea as well. She took my hand and squeezed it. She was reassuring me. She was asking me, too.

In all the stories I read it’s the hero that has to make the tough decisions. With his super powers he is the only one capable of doing whatever it is he has to do to save his friends and the world. Super heroes were celebrated on conventions and film festivals when those still existed.

Heroes might have to go through tough times, too; they have to overcome themselves in order to grow strong.

No one sympathizes with someone who’s never had to struggle. You can save humanity all you want, but it’s your suffering that people want to see. They want to be proud with you when you defeat the villain at the end. The hero has to earn his right to be proud of his powers.

All I wanted was to get rid of this one skill I had earned myself. It didn’t make me proud and it didn’t make me a hero.

When Rachel and Brittany silently pleaded with me they were asking for the monster in me to go to work. They wanted the villain to succeed.

I closed my eyes and dreamed myself away to a happier place. I didn’t get very far, though. All I could think of was that morning with Britt at the kitchen table when we were eating our last cereals together. Just one of many lazy Sunday mornings and a bowl of cereals for breakfast; that was enough of a fantasy, enough to get lost in thought. It was unreal enough to make me vanish.

When I opened my eyes I was already hiding again. I approached Quinn and pulled her away from Rachel—Rachel, the short girl with the big heart and the loud voice. Rachel, who I’ll always love and never forget.

It took all my strength to loosen Quinn’s grip. She was literally holding on to dear life.

The hunting trips and my panic made me strong, however, and Quinn’s willpower decreased with every cough from Rachel. It was only a question of time and I’d win and make us lose.

The moment Quinn’s palm slipped from Rachel’s and their fingertips lost contact Brittany unfroze and wrapped both her arms around Quinn to hold her tight.

“I love you.”

I think we all said it—one after another. I covered Quinn’s eyes with one hand and buried my face into her neck.

Only Brittany saw what happened and I’m not sure which one was louder: her sudden weeping or the shot. 

Quinn sank to her knees like the lifeless bundle she had become. Neither Brittany nor I let go off her. We kept her trapped in our embrace, afraid that once we’d let go, she’d vanish like Rachel.

We sat there together all day, even as our bones started to ache, even as we got dizzy from hunger.

We sat there by what had once been Rachel and we didn’t speak a word. We sat there hugging Quinn, ensuring she would stay with us.

We sat there until Britt and I couldn’t cry anymore. We had shed enough tears to make up for the dryness on Quinn’s cheeks. We sat there until our fingers were stiff and our faces were cold and dry.

When I finally kissed Quinn’s head and got up she didn’t move.

I pulled her up with me, forced her on her feet. She obeyed. She was a ragdoll in my arms. Her expression was empty. Her eyes were looking into the distance as if she was already on her way to find Rachel. Her body was nothing but a shell, left behind after the virus had ripped the life out of her.

I envied her a little then.

Britt and I led Quinn back to the fireplace. The fire had long burnt out and the wood was damp. It took a while before I managed to start a new one.

I forced myself to eat despite the fact that my throat was so tight I could barely swallow.

When I looked over to the remnants of Quinn lying next to the fire, staring into the empty space I nudged Britt’s side to urge her to get up with me. We lay down next to Quinn and snuggled up to her.

I didn’t have much warmth to give. Quinn didn’t, either.

Rachel had been the one two break our first rule: Stay away from other people.

Quinn was the one to first talk about death.

Brittany had been the first one to cry.

All our vows had been broken, all but one. I figured it was my turn next.

I gave Britt a kiss, and I pulled Quinn’s cold shivering body towards me into a hug. I took a breath.

And I said:

“Do you remember this one when Mr. Shuester…”

I kept talking all night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget us.

_The end is near, and soon the reaper will strike again. I lost my soul to death itself when I was touched by one scraggy index finger._

_Sometimes I wish I had died instead._

_Each day reminds me of another loss. They’re too plenty to count them all. I’m beginning to forget their names._

_Only three names I will never forget._

_Those three are known by all that lives._

 

\--------

Once we’re gone only the earth will remain. This planet is finally getting rid of us. Hollow buildings will soon be the only evidence for our existence.

Maybe—maybe someday someone will listen to the songs the birds sing, and the wind will whisper our names.

Maybe someday someone else will get to see the sun rise again and wonder if there was ever a time in which there was something other than emptiness inhabiting this place.

It will be then that our voices will be heard and the pleas I sent up into the sky will come raining down again, filling these strangers’ hearts with the love we had for each other.

The road will tell our story over and over again until no one has to ever ask: What became of those before us?

I’ll make sure my family won’t be forgotten.

\---

Although I knew it had only been a matter of time it still caught me off-guard when Quinn started to cough.

I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly. Quinn and I had always been alike: We were the strong ones shielded by stronger ones.

I loved her like a sister, like a lover, like a mother, like a child. I loved her like my own life. And now I was going to lose her for good. She’d be with Rachel soon.

“Quinn?” I cleared my throat and squinted, unwilling to let the tears that kept welling up in my eyes run down my cheeks.

I didn’t receive a response.

“Quinn… when did you and Rach…”

The rest of the question got stuck in my throat. Why would I be asking anyway? I already had my answer. Quinn was sick.

She ignored me, of course. Maybe she didn’t even hear me. She was gone. She was searching for her girlfriend.

“Oh, Quinnie.” Brittany didn’t hold herself back from crying.

I looked over to her, pondering, uncertain what to do. I watched her pressing her palm to her lips. I heard her swallowing her sobs. I saw her eyes go dark, and skin turn grey. She was beaten.

Her hiccups echoed through the silence. Whatever was left of me shattered then.

Deep down I knew what I had to do:

I had killed for this girl once and I was about to do it again. The reaper was no longer a mask—it was my alter ego.

Rachel had taken me with her. Or maybe I had gone with Noah. Or maybe I had killed myself instead of that first rabbit and its blaming eyes. Maybe I had died with Kevin.

I would have taken the tiniest straw of hope and pulled at it until I’d find a way to safe Quinn, but I knew that wasn’t possible.

Brittany turned her head and when I saw how red her face was I made my decision: I was not going to lose her, too.

Taking a deep breath I pulled over as an hourglass grew from my chest.

“Get out of the car.”

I said it while staring at the wheel in front of me. I said it as if I wasn’t talking to my family. I was talking to a stranger instead, cool and calm.

Quinn didn’t react, and I gulped.

When she coughed again and tiny sprays of blood landed on the glass to her side, my breath hitched and I finally repeated, emphasizing every syllable:

“Get out of the car.”

Brittany placed her hand on mine, and I let go off the wheel I was clutching.

How could she still love me when my eyes and my heart were long dead? How could she still love me despite the fact that I had become a monster without a soul or a name? How could she still love me with all the death surrounding us? How could she still love me when my hand had turned into a sickle?

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t right. And worst of all: it wasn’t just happening. I was going to have to do it.

I opened my door and stepped out of the car. With a dark robe enshrouding my identity I was finally complete. Each step felt like my last and every tiny movement made my heart rip open.

I opened the trunk and unloaded one of the bags with food and water. I took Noah’s second gun and tossed it on the street. I opened the back door and repeated once again:

“Get out of the car.” I didn’t dare look at Quinn. She still didn’t show any reaction.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her off her seat. “I’ll leave you some of our supplies.” It was actually more than she’d probably need.

Still nothing. I thought that maybe it was for the best this way. Maybe she would never know I abandoned her. Maybe I wasn’t leaving my friend behind—Quinn was dead already.

 I turned back around one last time before rejoining Brittany.

“I love you.”

It was then, in the worst possible moment, that Quinn snapped out of her coma and realization hit her. Her eyes woke up and she looked at me with panic.

“San, no!”

She threw herself towards me. She tried to pull me into an embrace, pulling at my arms and hands and shoulders like a ghost to its vessel or an abandoned child to its parents or just someone you love with all your heart and who’s about to kill you. For a second—for a short, desperate second—I gave in.

“I love you,” I repeated as I swung my arms around her. I buried my hands in her hair one last time, feeling her heart beat against mine. I buried my face in her shoulder. I swallowed my tears.

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that she had to die.

It’s not fair that I have to live.

Eventually, though, I didn’t have a choice. I _had_ to push her away.

“I’m sorry.”

Somewhere deep down I know she never judged me. I know she would have done the same. I know her love for me never wavered. Even when she started to cry and when fell to her knees; even when she begged:

“Please! Don’t leave me!”

I know we were still a family.

We’ll always be a family.

It’s the cross I’ll have to bear.

I shut down my senses, and instead of using my mask I killed myself just long enough so I could turn around and get back into the car. Brittany had buried her face between her knees. She was clutching the back of her head with both hands.

She was shivering and sobbing, but she didn’t try to talk me out of this.

“Don’t leave me!” Quinn begged. “Please! Don’t leave me behind!”

It was the last thing I ever heard her speak.

.

We’ve been driving for about a month since then. Quinn’s plea still rings loudly in my head.

I love you, Quinn. I love you, Rachel. One day we’ll be reunited.

All of us.

“You know, San.” Britt squeezes my arm and winks at me with a sad smile.

“We could try and repopulate the planet.”

I don’t look at her, but stare out on the road instead. We’ve seen the ocean and forests and fields and hills. We’ll travel on until we can’t anymore.

I press my lips together, and I hold back my tears when I answer:

“That’s not possible. We’re like Eve and Eve. We can’t repopulate anything.”

But she just squeezes tighter and insists: “You’re so silly. You know exactly that Adam and Eve couldn’t do that, either.”

It almost makes me want to smile, because she’s so adorable and, of course, absolutely right.

There’re many stories I’ll never tell, but Quinn and Rachel are too important to be forgotten.

Even though there might not be anyone left to listen, I want the earth to savor the memory of what was once my family. I want it to soak up our existence and store it in its core, ready to free our essence once we’ve waited long enough.

I want the trees and the bushes and the grass and the wind and the birds to know that we lived—that there was once a time when we were together; a time in which everything was the way it was supposed to be:

The four of us and the road ahead.


End file.
